Six Degrees of Separation
by thesecretsociety
Summary: Nothing lasts forever.
1. The Wedding

_One more [quick] fanfic story before Pitch Perfect 2 premieres... It's actually a one shot, divided into parts... A little countdown..._

* * *

 **THE WEDDING**

"You may now kiss the bride."

And so the redhead is officially no longer a certain 'Miss Beale.' For the first stage of the marriage, she sure would bumptiously insist on everybody that she be referred to as " _Mrs._ DeGroft" much to the satisfaction of her pride and to the aggravation of the remainder of the human race.

On the last row, Beca Mitchell dutifully turns her head to the side; her girlfriend is clapping her hands together, this and accompanied by a genuine smile mechanically plastered on her lips, resembling the rest of the audience. For someone who strongly believes that nothing could last forever at least Chloe seems to be happy enough for her sister's lifetime achievement. This is as good as it gets.

"Blonde guy and pink lady."

Chloe pans over the crowd at the reception until she finds the couple who fits the particular description. "Two weeks."

"Two weeks?" the other has her jaw left hanging open in disbelief. "Two freaking weeks?"

"Look. Obviously a fling, baby. Just a fling."

"What about Kirk Douglas and Rihanna over there?"

"Six months and she'll realize it's just not worth the money."

Beca can't help but laugh at the serious note. "What if it's true love?"

"True love," her girlfriend scoffs as expected.

"Yeah. Like... Mr. and Mrs. DeGroft."

"Nah-uh," Chloe shakes her head and sips on her glass of wine. "We are not betting on my sister, Mitchell."

"Come on…" the brunette frowns upon the hypocrisy. "Honey, I know you've been dying to get it out of your system since the engagement party."

Busted, the bachelorette Beale finally lets out an anxious sigh and gives in to the challenge. "Fine. I will give them roughly a couple of years."

"' _A couple of years..._ '" that trademark side smirk rather suggests some sort of amusement with a slight element of pleasant surprise. It's not the most appropriate reaction. It shouldn't be.

"What, Mitchell? Are you actually glad about the possibility that my sister would have to go through the _excruciating_ process of divorce just after two years of marriage? That is so cruel!"

"Baby, of course not. I'm only glad about the _fact_ that you actually believe they could make it to two years." Chloe has never predicted over six months, and it doesn't _just_ happen. There has to be a valid reason behind this significant change of heart. Beca reaches for her girlfriend's hand and gives it a loving squeeze. "Where did your pessimism go, huh? I guess a few more time with me and we can level up your limit from 'a couple of years' to 'forever'."

Blushing, the redhead intertwines their fingers and meets the pair of dark blue orbs already fixed on her with full adoration. So maybe this is her flaw, the crevice to her iron wall of Nothing Lasts Forever - stupidly charming Beca Mitchell. Chloe manages to spare a smile and plant one sweet kiss on the lips patiently awaiting.

"You're awesome."

"And you're sleeping with me," the other points out the source of prejudice, earning herself a rolling pair of dark blue eyes and a guilty smug. "Oh I haven't thanked you yet for coming here with me."

"Really?" her plus-one jokingly plays innocent, pulling the redhead closer for her own good. "Well, a record producer like me doesn't come cheap so…"

"Somebody's about to get lucky."

And there goes the moment. Beca's giggling assistant seems to know when to kill the mood. Every freaking time. Nonetheless, Chloe waves hello and bites her lower lip to suppress a laugh. There's something about a seriously annoyed Beca Mitchell that's hilariously entertaining.

"Enjoying the party, Fat Amy?"

"Hell yeah! Thanks for inviting me, Chloe. Hawaii, baby!"

"She invited me, you had to tag along," Beca clarifies the unfortunate setup in a murmur then sighs because who cares at this point? "So what's the emergency?"

"Jay-Z wants to talk."

"That's not an emergency."

" _Jay-Z_ wants to talk!"

"Not now."

"But can I talk to him while you're busy?"

"No."

"What about Beyoncé?"

"No."

"Blue Ivy? I'm really good at baby talk."

"You are not going to talk to anybody, alright?" But the slight nudge on the side coming from her date insinuates that the boss must have to be friendlier than that. Right, she's doing them a favor, so tO make it up somehow is a plate of cake slice especially for Fat Amy. "Here. Eat. Forget about your gym instructor for a moment, fuck him, and enjoy this, uh… I don't know, five layers of diabetes."

The dirty look from the redhead spells out Beca's failure at being nice. Fortunately, the assistant is too over the moon to accept food to even make interpretations. She's been starving since getting that gym membership!

"There you are," Mrs. DeGroft greets her sister with a hug. "You might succeed avoiding mom and dad the whole night, but face it, you're not getting away from me, _sis_."

"I'm only here for Hawaii."

"She's telling the truth," the younger redhead warns her husband before turning to her sister's plus-one for the wedding. "Marry her already, Mitchell. Restore this allergic-to-marriage freak's faith in good romance. I'm begging the hell out of you, for the love of God!"

Beca chuckles and shrugs. _Marriage, romance_ \- there's a difference.

"But seriously, when are you two getting married?" Mr. DeGroft presses on in support to his wife's advocacy. "You've been dating longer than we've been. It's only a matter of time now, isn't it?"

The choking sound coming from the side reminds everyone of Fat Amy's presence among the group. Boy, that's awkward. If only they knew.

"Are you alright?" asks the younger Beale.

Fat Amy can sink into the ground taking the hotseat. She must tell nothing. The setup is she goes wherever her boss goes. It doesn't mean that she has to be involved, however, when her mere presence is all that's required. Technically, she doesn't exist. She sees nothing, hears nothing, knows nothing. That's the agreement.

"Hey, guys!"

The newly weds are summoned by the other important wedding guests; the three are left relieved. Saved by the bell. Caught off guard, they jump a little at the sound of a ringing phone.

"Boss, emergency!" Fat Amy reports, in panic.

"Again, not now."

"Take it," the redhead gives it a go, smiling for reassurance. "It's alright."

"I promised you own me this weekend," insists Beca with a loving kiss. "Fat Amy, tell Jay-Z, whatever is his concern, I'll call him on Monday."

"But it's not Jay-Z…" the Australian accent trails off towards the end of the sentence. Should she even continue? They're all lovey dovey! But this is the job she has been assigned to. Thus, looking over from one girl to another, with great amount of apprehension, she speaks in a confidential whisper. "...It's your wife, boss."

* * *

 _Hi Mitchsen shippers! :)_


	2. I'm Aubrey Posen

**_ReadWriteFangirl, Lizzethhhh_** ** _:_** _Sort of my specialty now, you know. Cliffhangers and emotional torture._

 ** _shayna115, waitaminute, Yan:_** _That's the plan._

 ** _vahuene:_** _And that's just the first part._

 ** _Mitchsen for the win:_** _I'll take you not trusting me anymore as a very good compliment. :)_

 ** _Electrronis Zappa:_** _W_ _e'll see..._

 ** _BeChloeFan01:_** _Nice to know I'm not the only one excited about her. :)_

 ** _To all the "Guest":_** _I really wish I could distinguish one from the others, so I could respond accordingly to each of you. :(_

* * *

"Are you okay, Doc?"

Beca had to ask inspite of already knowing the answer exactly how it is, looking at her wife's reflection on the vanity mirror. Of course, the always poised Dr. Aubrey Posen flashes a refined smile and puts on the finishing touches of her make-up, hiding her troubles behind the image of sophistication.

"I'm fine, babe."

On that day, before God and the people they love, they vowed to be honest - the foundation of their marriage. Looks like neither of them is telling the truth nowadays. But what right does Beca have to complain about lies?

"You don't have to go back to work yet. I'm sure the hospital will understand."

"They need me there," the other insists. "I've been away long enough."

There's no way the brunette would ever win an argument against the Doc even if she dares. Her consolation? She fetches the pair of heels that would perfectly match her wife's attire for the day, kneels down before her Cinderella and slips the shoes into her feet.

"Baby, what are you doing?"

"Taking care of you," Beca answers casually. She prints a gentle kiss on her wife's foot and looks up to her with a smirk. "You need that too, you know, Doc."

 _Aw._ Aubrey bends over so she can return the favor, to show why this marriage works in the first place. Not to disregard her wife's lovely efforts, she kicks off her shoes, pulls Beca up and leads her to the bed. Her patients can probably wait because soon enough is the war of tongues and skins craving for generous touch. It's like honeymoon all over again.

"I've missed you," mutters the blondie on the top bunk, leaving kiss marks everywhere she can nibble on to make up for the times they had spent apart.

Beca expertly flips their bodies over. She holds her wife's hands under hers and starts the trail down south, moving up upon the heart as golden as those locks, ending at the beautiful face she's entitled to see first thing in the morning. Here is everything she could ever ask for. So why cheat on her?

"Hey," Aubrey's voice brings her back from space, a hint of worry. "Anything wrong, babe?"

A small chuckle escapes out of the brunette's mouth as she rests her forehead upon her wife's. Maybe then she could live in this moment. Maybe then the guilt would go away. Maybe then her brain would stop thinking about a certain redhead.

"I just really love you so damn much, Bree."

And believe it or not, that's the truth. It's the only truth Beca could ever promise her, the one thing that would never change, the bond that keeps this knot tied. It's enough. For now, it's enough.

* * *

"A red rose was delivered this morning, the usual." Stacie follows her roommate's course with her eyes as the redhead drags herself in along with her luggage then slams the door shut. Unintentional? Let's give her the benefit of the doubt. "And you're back from Hawaii. Without Mitchell."

Wordless, Chloe rolls her luggage into the bedroom. There's no need for further clues; the Hawaiian getaway clearly didn't go the way the lovebirds had expected it would be.

"Talk to me, crazy."

But the other has chosen to ignore the option. As opposed to it, she invades the kitchen, scoops as much junk food as her arms can handle, dumps them into the dining table, tops the pile with a can of Pepsi and slumps into the wooden chair. Her roommate takes the vacant seat across the table, silently watching it all - the initial blank stare, the picture of hopelessness, the moment of realization, the time regret sinks in, then comes the eventual emotional breakdown.

 _I hate to say I told you so._

She doesn't have to say it out loud for Chloe to understand her thoughts. She had been warned over and over, but she was the foolish one who believed that there could be a light at the end of this tunnel. That, one day, Beca would choose her. Oh the irony of nothing lasts forever.

"Ugh, I can't believe I'm doing this." Stacie approaches the fridge and retrieves a memo. "She called. About a hundred times, and I'm not exaggerating at all. I'm guessing the wife is back in town or she would have camped outside the building like the last time."

 _The wife._ It's like a tiny dagger stabbing Chloe where it hurts the most every second of the day.

"Mitchell will be waiting," enjoins the brunette, handing over an address written down on the piece of paper. "Fix it, Chlo."

And what exactly does fixing mean at this point? Mend the rocky relationship or break off the forbidden affair once and for all? Chloe grabs the first bag of chips because stress eating would never break your heart.

* * *

"I can just drive you home."

Chloe shakes her ginger head for a subtle refusal to the offer. She couldn't be with Beca any longer than this, not when they just had sex in the car inside a mall parking lot. She's supposed to put an end to all this madness, not perpetuate it. Chloe lets out a heavy sigh of failure and turns to the brunette on the driver seat.

"What?" asks the oblivious one.

 _Why is it so hard to let you go?_

"Do you want me to stay 'til Stacie arrives?"

"She'll kill you," the redhead replies in all frankness, collecting her things into her bag so she can finally leave. "No, she'll kill us both."

Beca, however, is not threatened at all, hopping off the car the second her passenger does; she's not going to let this day end this way. If she does, she might lose Chloe forever, and it's not a risk she would want to take.

"Chloe," she grabs her arm but the redhead pushes her away. "Wait. Let's talk."

"Go home." Chloe gives it a little push as she tries to make her way towards the mall entrance. "Your wife is out there making the world a better place, isn't it? And you're here chasing your other woman. Go home, Mitchell."

"So you don't love me anymore," Beca puts the thought into words for the sake of clarification.

 _Silence._ Both of them stops at their tracks, staring at each other, waiting for a goddamn miracle. The tears start to roll out of the pair of bright blue eyes, the brunette has heard the answer. No words - Chloe gives her a kiss on the forehead, on the cheek, and on the lips. Three kisses, one for each word in exchange for the cessation of this nightmare.

"Ma'am, there's a really long line behind you."

An hour later, Chloe has found herself one customer behind the counter. She must have been too preoccupied about Beca she hasn't been mindful of the commotion. The customer in front of her has taken too much time searching for her wallet the people behind are growing impatient.

"Yes, I'm so sorry. Could you just give me a sec, please?"

Chloe runs her eyes over the blonde. She seems nice, rich even, not the type who would try to get away with a free coffee. Thus, without really thinking, she moves forward to the counter and offers some help.

"Let me pay for that."

"What?" blondie looks at her in utter surprise. "Oh no, this is embarrassing."

The redhead nevertheless shrugs and smiles as she hands over her card. "Well, I guess you found a friend today. I'm Chloe."

"Oh god," the other cringes in humiliation but gladly accepts the handshake anyway. "Thank you so much, Chloe. I'll pay you back, I swear. If I don't, sue me. My name's Aubrey Posen."

* * *

 _Since this is a one-shot and there are only few days left, you'll find the story in a faster pace than usual. I hope you don't mind. And it's nice seeing everybody around. :)_


	3. You're going to love her

_**MysticFalls94, NightmareWalker:** I don't think I can manage to write a triple treble fic at this point. It's still beyond my forte, so we're crossing that off our list, guys. I'm sorry._

 ** _Guest, Guest (May 8):_** _Thanks! :)_

 _ **Guest:** Get used to all the mindfucking, dear._

 ** _Yan:_** _For some reason, I enjoy reading the 'fucking cheating Beca'. Something's wrong with me, I think._ _We'll see if karma will get her._

 _ **llvr:** It's indeed intentional on my part to not indicate the pairings. I even had to go back and undo them. Well, iyou should know that I'm an evil bitch. LOL._

 ** _vahuene:_** _And that's not all._

 ** _shayna115, leanaplumz:_** _That means you are just on the right track. LOL._

 ** _Asswipe:_** _Is that the Leslie Mann movie? I haven't seen it, but I'm guessing it's a comedy so, no, this is not based on The Other Woman._

 ** _cricket:_** _Breathe._

 _ **ReadWriteFangirl:** Looking at your profile picture makes me really nervous._

* * *

"Okay, let's take five, people."

Oh thank goodness! Judging by the collective sighs of relief, it's like Cynthia-Rose has done the entire studio a big favor. The little spoiled brat for an artist, along with his entire entourage, marches out of the building to address their desperate need for air - or more accurately, smoke. Soon after, the control room empties but three people; two remains barely awake while Fat Amy is too busy snoring in her sleep.

"You're the one who needs a break, Beca. I did it for you. And for me. Because I'm the one who has to deal with that piece of shit we call 'talent' all evening while you space out into oblivion."

Beca briefly glances over her business partner and sighs. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

"Is it the wife or... you-know-who?"

The death glare is more than enough to force the other to raise both hands into capitulation. "They have names, CR."

"Please don't sound too proud about it, my friend. Newsflash: you're not a Muslim."

Deliberately choosing to ignore such comment filled with the ugly truth, Beca walks over to the massive mixing boards, put on a pair of headphones and starts to inject some of her magic into the tragic track they've been working on for hours. Perhaps, a way to forget the world outside these walls even for a moment. But her long-time friend doesn't seem to want to give her a break after all.

"I don't really get it, you know."

"I don't expect you to."

"Just try to make it clear to me, alright? 'Cause you using me, I get that. You just want to make music; you don't want the Grammy, the popularity, or any of the fuss. That's fine, Beca. You using Fat Amy, I get that too. You agreed to hire her as your assistant because you know it's the only way to assure Aubrey that you're 'behaving' whenever she's gone. But Chloe? I really don't get it, girl."

Heaving out another sigh, Beca turns to her friend with an annoyed spirit this time. "I am _not_ using Chloe."

"Oh okay," nods the other in sarcasm. "So let me get this straight. You guys have sex, celebrate Valentines on the 15th, Christmas on January, her birthday a day after because she happens to share it with your mother-in-law, go all couple-y and after all these, you get to go home to your wife while Chloe lie awake in her bed, alone and lonely. Yeah, I guess you're right. You're not using her."

"I," the married brunette starts but immediately stops herself. "I love Aubrey. I love my wife, but everytime I'm with her it feels like cheating on Chloe."

Shaking her head in disapproval, Cynthia-Rose throws her friend a knowing look. "You're a mess, kiddo."

"I know," replies the other, letting out a small chuckle to go with it. "But don't worry. I don't think Chloe still wants to see me."

"Really? 'Cause that's not what she told me on the phone."

Puzzled, Beca shoots her friend a questioning look. Cynthia-Rose clicks her tongue for realizing it's a form of condoning the act yet eventually sports a sympathetic smirk and nods towards the exit door. Fat Amy will have to stay out of this; it will be a little secret between the two long-time friends. The same rules apply though - there's nothing to be seen, nothing to be heard. It's just another all-nighter at the studio working on a new record.

"Hey." The brunette hops in the car awaiting outside, all smiles and genuinely cheerful for the first time in days. Forget about the last time they met; she's been dying to hold Chloe again, to kiss her again for dear life. "It's 2am, Chlo. What are you doing here?"

Chloe grants a look, that small gesture letting her lover know that she still do care. Afterwards, she retrieve a brown paper bag from the back of the car and offers it to the brunette. Clueless, Beca proceeds to reach into the bag - packed chirashi bowl, an apple, and Dr. Pepper. She drove all the way down there at two in the morning to deliver a free meal.

"You know I can't sleep when I know you're working late. I bet you haven't eaten dinner yet."

And that's how you melt a heart. That's how you paint a big smile and natural blush on the cheeks. That's how you earn a kiss from someone who's already married. And that kiss, no matter how sinful, no matter how stupid or unreasonable it is, you'd come up with the perfect excuse, the right amount of justification to give in to it.

* * *

"Thanks for coming with me, Chloe."

The redhead chuckles. "Don't be silly, Aubrey. Nobody can say 'no' to shopping."

"Tell that to my wife," replies the other, rolling her eyes at that one little trait she hated about Beca. "But really, thank you. This is very nice of you to drive here to the mall even after a long day at the office. I mean, I'm practically still a stranger."

Chloe waves a hand to dismiss the ridiculous notion. "We've done shopping together, so we're practically BFFs now."

"Fine by me," Aubrey agrees with a giggle. "Next time, bring along your roommate. We can have a girls night out!"

"Well, it's not a girls night out without booze, so good luck convincing her to cheat on her diet plan."

"My wife's assistant is also enrolled to a gym class, and she _never_ followed her diet plan. I think she'll be able to convince your roommate."

"Wow, so everybody's into fitness now, huh? And here we are stuffing ourselves with sweets and sodium and cholesterol."

"That's exactly why I love hanging out with you!"

They share another set of laughter, oblivious of the greater connection between them, unaware of all the reasons why they shouldn't be hanging out to begin with. It's a small world, and the theory of six degrees of separation makes it even smaller for secrets to remain unexposed.

"Aubrey?" They pause from their meal as the owner of the voice, a guy, approaches their table. "Hey, it's me."

"Jesse? Oh my god!" the blonde woman stands to give him a hug. "Good to see you. How was the tour?"

"Awesome, but nothing beats home. And you? I see you're back. Last time I heard you were in a medical mission in Central African Republic. Yeah, I still can't believe I had to let you go."

"You used to date a Treble?" the third party, Chloe, suddenly blurts out. "Oops. I'm sorry to butt in just like that."

Realizing the presence of another person he's not familiar with, Jesse discreetly posts his inquiry. "Please tell me you didn't break up with me just to end up divorcing B-"

"Oh no," the redhead quickly cuts him off. "We're not... an item. She's still happily married to her wife."

Aubrey throws a glare at her ex for being so judgmental and introduces her new friend. Things should get better from here.

* * *

"It's Saturday. Come back to bed, honey."

But Beca's sleepy moans aren't enough to summon her wife back to the comfort of the mattress.

"We talked about this, sweet cheeks. We're having visitors today, and I have to prepare lunch."

"You're suspiciously too excited to have lunch with you ex, Doc."

Aubrey is half-way through getting dressed when she's figured the trace of jealousy in the atmosphere. Equipped with a playful smirk, she crawls back to Beca's arms and rendering smooches, convincing her that she is and will always be the love of her life.

"I'm playing matchmaker today, and you better have my back on this."

"Matchmaker? Like Cupid?"

"Yep! My new friend, the one I've been telling you about if you were listening, is also coming over. I think she'll be perfect for Jesse."

"And why is that?"

Aubrey sighs and turns to her wife, contemplating. "I don't know, baby. There's something about her. Just... wait 'til you meet her and see it for yourself. You're going to love her, I promise."


	4. What are you doing?

_**BeChloeFan01:** We all are._

 ** _BallinParis:_** _Write in your questions, I might have the answer to them._

 ** _infatuatedlover:_** _Then I'm glad you decided to come check it out. :)_

 ** _pitch perfect addiction:_** _Thanks. :)_

 ** _cricket:_** _What Aubrey doesn't know won't hurt her... yet._

 ** _Guest, Chloe, vahuene:_** _I'll just shut my mouth here and let you see how things unfold._

 ** _Yan:_** _RIP Beca indeed._

 ** _NightmareWalker:_** _You're making it sound so scandalous. LOL._

 ** _MysticFalls94, leanaplumz:_** _What can I say?_ _I love torturing people._

 ** _mindfucked:_** _I'm totally fine with you pouring out all your feels. I appreciate it, to be honest._

 ** _llvr:_** _Lucky you it's a short fic. It's just a little countdown. Last chapter will be posted on the 13th (Philippine Standard Time) because that's when Pitch Perfect 2 premieres in my country._

 ** _ReadWriteFangirl:_** _LOL. Do you really want me to kill her off? That's harsh._

* * *

"What's up, Doc?"

Putting on some finishing touches on the meal, Aubrey feels her wife's body crash against hers and the pair of hands sneaking their way around her waist. She absentmindedly plants a kiss on the strands of brown hair as mandated by matrimony, but the brunette just isn't done with competing for the chef's attention. Beca holds on tighter and buries her head into the golden waves until her efforts finally earns her a playful gaze from her beautiful wife.

"Finally someone decided to leave the bed," greets the blonde back to the sleepy groans. "Wait a minute. What are you wearing?"

Beca shrugs, hinting there's no way she's going to change. "It's my clothes, honey."

"Fine," sighs the woman in an elegant dress. "But, babe, I expect you to be nice today, okay?"

"I'm always nice," shoots back her wife, pulling her closer for demonstration. "I let you do stuff to me, Doctor."

Blushing and biting her lower lip, Aubrey fights off the temptation by barely shaking her head. "They'll be here any minute now."

"So Jesse dies in jealousy; I haven't seen that in a long while."

"But is it really Jesse, huh?" teases blondie. Beca rolls her eyes at the thought of having to deal with the guy again. Her wife though is smart enough to hold her head into place and peck her lips for further reassurance. "You won me already, alright? I love you, you're the one I married and he's learned to accept that now."

"Okay," nods the brunette. "But only because I love you."

"Cake's here!" Fat Amy's unannounced arrival prompts the couple to detach from each other. There's something awkward about showing some PDA around this Australian. "I didn't touch this cake... only the first... and the second... I'm so sorry, they look delicious."

"That's alright," laughs Aubrey. "Come on, just help me set the table at the patio, please?"

"Sure, Aubrey. By the way, Cousin Jesse paid for all the cake. He's already outside parking the car."

Beca scowls at the info. Her wife leaves her a look as a last minute reminded before she leads the assistant to the patio for the final stage of preparations. Soon, the doorbell has rung - that must be Jesse. She's forced with the task to welcome him by Aubrey's commanding voice.

"Beca."

"Jesse," she says his name out loud in return. The lack of enthusiasm mirrored by the guest confirms the mutual understanding. "I should invite you in, I guess."

"Can we just do this for Aubrey?"

"Of course. For Aubrey."

Skipping the small talks they're not so keen to go through, she quietly leads him to the patio where his former girlfriend readily welcomes him with a warm hug. They automatically engage into a lively conversation the brunette has decided she doesn't want to join. Good thing the doorbell rings once more - that must be Aubrey's new friend; Beca now has the perfect alibi to excuse herself. Taking a deep breath as she stands at the door, she secretly wishes Cynthia-Rose would call for emergency at the studio. For the meantime, the second ring tells her to open the door immediately.

Then she wishes she had not done so. The red locks, the piercing blue eyes, the smile she has fallen for - Chloe Beale is standing right at the doorstep of the Beverly Hills mansion she shares with her wife. _God, no._ Is this a dream? Guess not. Because the beam on that angelic face slowly fades at the sad realization. There's still time; she could still back away, turn around, leave and never return to destroy this close-to-perfect marriage.

"Chloe." Aubrey's voice rings like an alarm clock. The wife hurries to embrace the mistress who forces a grin to hide her soul shattering to pieces. "Welcome to our home. Oh, and this is my wife, Beca. Beca, this is Chloe. Get used to seeing her around from now on 'cause I think I just found my best friend for life."

Beca glances over to her wife; she has no idea.

* * *

"Let me get those, baby."

Chloe watches Aubrey take the bacon bits away from Beca's salad. She then looks down her own plate, finding herself saving those bacon bits for the brunette out of habit. She knows how much Beca secretly wants them, but the wife knows otherwise, and who is Chloe Beale to know better?

"You alright?" Jesse checks on his fellow guest, unaware of the dark blue orbs silently prying on them. "You seem uncomfortable."

"I'm good," nods the redhead with a smile. Why even bother about a married woman when here's a very nice guy trying to vie for her undivided attention? "I just still can't believe I'm actually this close to a Treble."

"And I can't believe you've never been to one of our shows."

"Well, I have always wanted to. You're like One Direction, but makes more sense, you know."

"That's why on our next tour, you _have_ to go, Chloe. I'll get you a VIP pass, so there's no reason for you to say 'no'. Deal?"

She doesn't answer as promptly as expected causing the guy to make use of his extra tricks. She giggles at the persistence in its most adorable form which eventually results to her closing the deal.

"Can you hear the wedding bells?" Aubrey whispers to her wife, enjoying the sight of the two guests getting along perfectly well. "I do."

"I'm sure my roommate would love to come as well," Chloe carries on with the conversation. "She's got a pretty good crush on a Treble."

Jesse brightens up at the interesting news. "Really? And what about you? Any member of the band you've got a crush on?"

"What is this, middle school?" Beca Mitchell, in her usual kill-joy self, butts in. She receives a harmless little glare from her wife, but Fat Amy, in the corner, is sensing the heat from her boss. "What? I'm just asking."

"You are a bunch of cuties it's not impossible to have a crush on any of you," Chloe directs her answer to the guy seated next to her and deliberately ignores the brunette across the table.

"Jared Leto is a cutie I can get you a VIP pass to a 30 Seconds to Mars concert," Beca offers, unsolicited. "Just name the venue."

"I'm more than happy to see Jesse perform on stage."

"Trebles are great, but there are other talents out there."

"I think I've narrowed down my options, thank you."

"Justin Timberlake. You should see him live."

"Stacie would prefer someone she can flirt with."

"Stacie or you?"

"Point is he's already _married_ ," the redhead has purposely emphasized.

"It's not like you're going to get involved."

"Are you actually considering?"

"Argh!"Fat Amy screams out, standing on her feet, startling the others. But she can't stand the tension anymore. If all hell breaks loose and secrets are suddenly exposed today at this table, she doesn't want to be part of the chaos. Her cousin and his the former flame turns to her, baffled. The other two, on the other hand, sends their pleas that she keep her composure. "Uh... I-I mean... this is a great meal, Aubrey."

She sits back down and fills the air with awkward silence.

"Um, Jesse... are you dating anybody at the moment?" Aubrey stirs the moment back to her matchmaking arena.

"No," he answers.

"Chloe?" the blonde shifts her gaze to the redhead. "You're not seeing anybody, right?"

Beca glues her eyes on the girl under the spotlight, interested and anticipating. The receiving end guarantees to miss this, or she would lose all the strength she's accumulated so far. This is it, the light at the end of the tunnel. She will witness this - a future without Beca in it.

"Single and available," she ultimately declares.

"Aubrey's been trying to set you two up," the brunette states what should already be obvious. It's a crazy attempt to keep her dearest Chloe.

"I know."

* * *

"Baby, could you please keep Chloe company for a moment?"

Aubrey leaves the kitchen with a tray of tea set; the two exchange looks, dreading the moment they'll be left alone on their own. Chloe swallows hard, going back to slicing the chocolate cake on the counter. Wordless, Beca pours herself a glass of water, stands next to their guests, in her wife's words, keeping her company. They don't talk, not even try. Even so, their hearts comprehend. It's as if time slows down for their sake, the silence shuts the world behind them. Cupid's just not through with them yet. Chloe's hand on the surface, it's like a magnet, patiently awaiting Beca's, aching for a stolen touch no matter how quick chances would permit.

"What are you two doing?"


	5. Save it

_**BallinParis:** You got all the facts right, dear. I know a huge back story is missing here, but that's pretty much it - what you said._

 _ **youbitch:**_ _I'll take that as a compliment._

 _ **BeChloeFan01:**_ _One new chapter coming up…_

 ** _Yan:_** _Let's see what I can do._

 ** _infatuatedlover:_** _Thanks! And I'm sorry about your heart._

 _ **llvr:** You may read however you want, although I usually rely on reviews when writing the next chapter. Trivia: the "last word" on every chapter is kind of important. It's the unofficial chapter title, sort of._

 ** _cricket:_** _Because I'm cruel._

 ** _ReadWriteFangirl:_** _Wow, I'm really flattered by your positive review._

 ** _shayna115:_** _Neither do I._

 ** _vahuene:_** _Oh I think she deserves something worse than a slap._

 _ **To all the 'Guest':** I really appreciate you guys leaving a review, but again, I would appreciate it more if you can distinguish yourselves from one another. I would really love to address you all separately._

* * *

"Are you sure she doesn't suspect anything?"

Stacie paces the room back and forth while her roommate anxiously flops on the bed. One whole day of enduring the misery of existing under the same roof with her lover and her lover's wife - it's surprising how she's still alive at this hour.

"I don't think she'd let me leave the house, scratch-free, had she suspected a thing," she mutters. How could a single day suck all her energy and happiness? "I told you there was an entire block of the kitchen counter. From where she was standing, her wife is harmlessly drinking a glass of water while her so-called _'BFF'_ is preparing desserts. She wouldn't be insane enough to exhort Beca and I to strike a nice little conversation had she suspected that we're actually sleeping together behind her back."

The phone on the bedside table lights up as it rings for a call. Both race for it at the sight of a certain record producer's picture on the screen. Stacie has grabbed it first. She taps on _Decline_ , switches off the phone and shoves it into her pocket.

"Give me my phone, Stacie."

"Hell no! Chloe, you are not going to talk to her ever again. This has to end now, you understand? It has to stop now. Not later, not tomorrow, or the week after. _Now_ , Chloe. Now."

But how? She's been trying to break it off only to epicly fail every fucking time.

"Here, repeat after me," instructs the brunette. "Screw you, Beca Mitchell."

Hesitant at first, the look she's getting from her roommate leaves her no other choice. Perhaps, her idiotic brain would listen and convince her senses. "Screw you, Beca Mitchell."

"You fucking cheating bitch, I won't be letting you in again."

"You fucking cheating bitch, I won't be letting you in again."

"I've had enough of your lies. This is the last time you'll be breaking my heart."

"I've had enough of your lies. This is the last time you'll be breaking my heart."

"If you think I lack the courage to say goodbye, then think once more."

"If you think I lack the courage to say goodbye, then think once more."

"Because tonight, after everything..."

"Because tonight, after everything..."

"I don't want you or need you, Mitchell. Someday I will forget about you and not even miss you at all. Tonight it stops; I'm not even sorry that I don't love you anymore."

Chloe, however, remains silent. She simply stares back much to the bewilderment of her roommate. Is it the line? Are there too many sentences that it's now too difficult to say them all in one go? The tears that start to roll down her cheeks reveal that it's much more than that. Stacie sighs at the sad reality. There's just no trick of the mind that could correct the heart's desire.

"It's stupid but I still want you," the redhead sobs while her insides die. "I still need you and love you in spite of it all."

 _Goddamn it, Beale._

* * *

"Honey, I told you to be nice."

"You know I never liked Jesse," Beca attempts to evade the shurikens coming her way. She pulls the blanket over her body and pretend she even has the yen to sleep.

Her wife follows suit on the bed as soon as she's completed her nightly lotion ritual. "This ridiculous logic of yours to hate on my ex, it's natural. I'd actually let it slide, Beca. But Chloe? Couldn't you be any nicer to her, huh? You wouldn't talk to her. Well, only when you feel the need to be on the opposite side of things."

"Right, I don't want you hanging out with her."

"What?" Aubrey yelps out in utter surprise. Troubled, she forces her wife to deal with her. "You have got to be kidding me, Beca."

"I'm serious."

"But why? This is the first time I met someone outside of my medical circle who I can truly call a friend. She's nothing but nice, goes shopping with me, understands my sentiments, totally cool with my craziness, I… I-I don't get why I have to stop hanging out with her. Look, baby, I think she might be my very own Cynthia-Rose."

"Trust me, she's not."

"Do you hate me, baby?" Aubrey drops the bait. The groan coming from the other precedes her victory. "Tell me, do you _really_ hate your lovely wife?"

Beca heaves out one long sigh and reaches for that freshly-moisturized hand, gentle so as to not break her precious one and tight to indicate she's still holding on. "I don't hate you, Bree. In fact, I love you so much I don't want to see you get hurt."

"That… is… very… weird." Blondie has her eyebrows knitted close together in thought. Where the hell did that come from? "And also very sweet, babe. I love you."

If only a kiss could drown the guilt, change the truth and erase the sins. "I love you too."

* * *

"Excellent, girls! Now enjoy your two-minute break then we'll go back to cardio."

The gym buddies plonk their respective weight plates down the floor and utilize their vision by appreciating God's greatest creation that is their gym instructor's gorgeously firm but squeezable ass. Who could ever survive this horrible place without Luke's perfection?

"Normally, I wouldn't put myself down for cardio but damn, that sexy lad."

"Okay, drink." Stacie thrusts a water bottle into the Australian's hands before they waste another two minutes discussing their Luke fantasies. "Any news?"

"Mellie is foxtail, and I think she's teaming up with Papa Pope."

That is so not the news the brunette was asking as shown by that dirty look. "First of all, no fucking spoilers. Second, I'm talking about Mitchell and the wife."

"Oh," nods the other, enlightened. "Uh… going strong, I guess."

And Chloe is in hell.

"Tell me about the wife."

"Why?" Fat Amy squints her eyes in confusion. "I thought we're not supposed to talk about her ever. The lesser you know, the safer the secret."

"They've _met_!"

"Then ask Chloe."

"She wouldn't tell me a thing."

"Because we're not supposed to talk about her, Stacie."

What's more annoying - that scholarly guise that goes along with the singsong voice or the fact that this supposed dumbwit is right? "You know, this is all your fault, Fat Amy."

"How is it-"

"You're the bridge. Six degrees of separation, and you're the one in the middle. If it weren't for you, Beca and Chloe would have never even met. You're the reason why we're all entangled in this web, and you wouldn't do something to try and fix it."

A little manipulation is all that's required to appeal to Fat Amy's fragility. She's caving in as two minutes almost expire. Still, she won't reveal the name though. Stacie will have to settle with a small piece of information.

"She's an OB/GYN. Because being married to a woman just isn't enough. That's all I can say."

That'll do. How many female OB/GYN who frequently initiate medical missions abroad live in the area?

* * *

"Really, Chlo? Jesse? You honestly went out on a date with him and I had to hear all about it from the guy himself?"

It's almost midnight, and they're in Beca's car arguing with each other for the last hour or so.

"I'm single, he's _not_ married. I don't see anything wrong about it."

To which the record producer laughs. "You and Jesse... Seriously, Chloe, that's the biggest joke I've ever heard this year."

"I don't know," the other shrugs sarcastically. "I mean, it was a very good date we might hang out again soon. Look, Beca, if you're worried that Jesse and I might actually end up together and be the last one to hear the news, _I_ will happily give you a call. Judging by our acquaintances, we will have to invite you to the wedding anyway. It's like I can never get away from you!"

"Stop it."

"No, _you_ stop it! If you can go on and on cheating on your wife, well, _I_ can't do that to a friend."

"Wow, so now you're a saint."

"What do you want from me, Mitchell?" Chloe asks. Because frankly, it doesn't make sense anymore. "You enjoy a big career, a Beverly Hills mansion, loyal friends and an awfully amazing wife. What do you even need me for?"

Nothing. Beca has been able to come up with nothing. So a broken heart, a question left unanswered, a pair of eyes welling up with tears are Chloe's baggage as she climbs out of the car. No, she probably won't be returning. Into the car. Into their lives. Not anymore. Thus, Beca has one last chance left. To chase after her, and hold her tight for as long as it's allowed.

"I'm sorry," she owes her that and beyond. Chloe deserves an explanation from her no matter how crazy or selfish it is. "Yes, I'm scared that you and Jesse might end up together. I'm scared to find out that you're no longer mine, Chloe."

"That's the thing," the redhead looks into Beca's eyes with a bittersweet smile. "I've always been yours, but you were never mine... so _please..._ let me go."

There's the stabbing dagger, inflicting wounds so deep not even that one last kiss could spare them from the pain. And then there's the other one, the one that could hurt even more, the one who shares the same space and atmosphere with the two people who have betrayed her.

"Save it."


	6. I need it

_**starbuck217:** Here it is..._

 ** _free the boobs:_** _Thank you very much! :) Oh, and I like your username. No kidding._

 ** _wrrrby, vahuene, DODObird:_** _You have no choice. Deal with it. LOL._

 ** _NightmareWalker:_** _You're right. There's so many choices you have no idea how much pressure I'm feeling right now._

 ** _ReadWriteFangirl:_** _I always try to give you guys the best chapter I can offer. :)_

 ** _Yan:_** _This is where the real challenge for me starts._

 ** _BeChloeFan01:_** _Intense._

 ** _youbitch:_** _Okay, a bit more and I'll be scared of you already._

 ** _leanaplumz:_** _I am a huge Bechloe fan, like, obviously. But I guess we all have our reservations in this story. Of course, we want that happy Bechloe end game, but there's just no reason to hate Aubrey here._

 ** _Mona, Chloe, Hanna:_** _You guys are the most hardcore Bechloe shippers in this story. Thumbs up for you two._

 ** _llvr:_** _Oops, my bad. I just assumed people have time reading fanfics people have time catching up with TV series. I knew it. I should have added a warning. I'm sorry. :(_

 _ **leijan, Guest:** Ready for the next chapter?_

 ** _infatuatedlover:_** _I don't want to promise anything._

 _So I noticed everybody really tried to come up with their own identity this time with just one Guest among the reviewers. Thank you. I appreciate this a lot._

* * *

"It's all my fault, Bree. You can put all the blame on me."

It's been an hour; maybe it's time to give up trying to make an approach, make a desperate attempt for physical contact and accept that a half-a-room distance is the only possible option for a setup at the moment. You don't walk into a burning flame. You just don't.

"Just you." Aubrey scoffs and chuckles at the plea. "Yeah, because it only takes one person to tango, right?"

"Baby..."

"Don't. Even. Try. To call me. That."

Then Beca is in eye-to-eye with a fuming gaze. It burns down your whole being, right down to the tiniest piece of you. She's never seen her wife this angry and hurt and sad all at the same time, all these fucked up emotions eating her up, slowly breaking her down to pieces. It's like watching them torture her to death with no means on her part to stop it. No, it's not like that. It's Beca who's holding the gun, killing the person she's sworn to cherish for the rest of her life.

"I'm sorry," her voice cracks as her own tears cloud her eyes. "I'm sorry, Aubrey. I'm so sorry."

And then the defense can barely keep it together any longer. Aubrey's tough facade slowly crumbles as she breaks down to tears. The usual mechanism - she sits down on the edge of the bed and buries her face into her hands because she doesn't anybody to see her cry, especially now in her worst. That's it; Beca can't take being worthless anymore. She braves the attacks, hits, slaps launched against her - she deserves them all quite honestly - only to be pushed away by her wife for the nth time this evening.

"No, you don't get to touch me! You don't get to act like you still care about me because you've proven you don't!"

"Aubrey, just-"

"Why?" the blonde has found the courage to ask. "Why did you have to cheat on me, Beca?"

"You don't have to hurt yourself like this, Bree."

"No, Beca, I have to know. I _freaking_ deserve to know!"

The brunette sighs and looks away for a second, taking the time to wipe her own tears and find her words. Seriously, _why?_ She too has spent all her waking hours wondering about the same thing. Aubrey Posen; she's all one could ever ask for. There's not even a tiny dot of a reason to betray her.

"So why? What could she possibly have that I don't?"

"She's not you," is the worst response ever.

"Yes, because she's your mistress and I'm just your wife."

"Aubrey, don't do this."

"Did I do something wrong?" Aubrey struggles to say it out loud. "Am I not making you... satisfied anymore?"

Beca strongly shakes her head in disapproval. How could she listen to her wife blame herself for fault, for her stupid mess?

"'Cause if that's the case, the right thing to do would have been to talk to me, tell it to my face, but never to bullshit me behind my back. No, you don't fuck other people! Or, wait, is it just Chloe because that' s how special she must be, huh?"

"I've hurt her just as much as I've hurt you." This is completely moronic. She shouldn't be taking any other side than her wife's.

The blonde cringes her nose at the nerve then scoffs once more. "You have no idea how much you've hurt me, _babe._ You don't know the gut-wrenching pain that's breaking me apart right now. It's like I can slap her backstabbing face a million more times, and it won't even be close."

"I owe you the truth," says Beca, making another attempt to cross the invisible barrier between them. "And the truth is I'm an idiot. But believe it or not, Bree, this idiot loves you. So damn much. I love you so much I wish there's something I could do to go back in time and make better choices. Believe it or not, every pain I watch you endure, I feel it ten times over. And I'm not going to convince you to forgive me just as how I forced Chloe into this. I just need you to know that I love you. That's the truth."

* * *

"Jesse?" Chloe is beyond surprised to see him out in the hallway. "W-What are you doing here?"

"I thought we were going to meet at the park today," replies the man. "But then you weren't answering any of my calls, so I've figured there's something wrong. What's up, Chlo? I'm really worried about you."

Speechless, the redhead can only stare back at him. He still doesn't know. "You... I'm guessing you haven't talked to Aubrey yet."

"Aubrey?" he asks, baffled. "What about her? I-I mean... I'm pretty sure she's totally cool about you and me."

"No, Jesse. Not about you and me."

* * *

"Hey!"

Everyone turns towards the door, the unwanted man who has come barging into the studio in the middle of a recording session. Does he have any clue how much his rude interruption is costing them already? But not even the scariest security can stop Jesse from demanding to be dealt with by a certain producer.

"What do you want?" Beca hisses at him, trying to lure him out of the room. "You have no business here, Swanson."

"What the _fuck_ did you do?"

Oh he's heard. She heaves out a sigh and attempts to lead him out of the room again.

"Whoa now you're ashamed these people learns about your cheating mess?" Jesse brushes off her hands, letting out a chuckle. "I'm shocked that you even care about what they think of you after all. Well, you should have thought about that before you cheated on your wife."

Here comes the murmurs, the scathing opinions.

"Tell me, Beca, do you really fucking hate me that much that you have to steal away every single person I want? Do you honestly hate me that much that you even had to hurt Aubrey?"

It's too late to save a face. Even Cynthia-Rose can't save her ass at this point. "I don't have to explain to you, Jesse."

"What?" He grabs her arm and force her to face him. His eyes, he'd kill her. "Are you freaking kidding me? You don't have to explain to me? I gave Aubrey up, Beca. I let her go. I surrender the love of my life. For _you_. To you. And you tell me now that you don't have to explain to me."

She remains quiet, simply receiving the glare fixed on her.

"I hate you, yes, but it has nothing to do with my crime. And I hate you even more today. Because you're the better choice for either of them."

That's the first and last he's ever going to slap a woman.

* * *

"Hi."

Chloe turns from the shorter brunette to the taller one. Her roommate throws back a sympathetic smile before leaving the apartment to give them the time and space - this is the last time she'd do them favor. For the sake of closure.

"You shouldn't be here," the redhead firmly states.

Beca nods her head in response, empties the crystal vase nearby and replaces the wilted flower with the brand new rose. It's a brand new apology.

"Mitchell..."

"Just give a minute, please?" begs the other. "Just one minute then I'll leave."

Fair enough. But Chloe will have to sit, waiting in agony for the end of that ticking clock. It's suffocating. The air in the room has grown thinner just by the mere presence of the last person she needed to see. To make it worse, Beca has occupied the sit across the dining table, so even if the redhead looks the other way, the visitor's image is cleverly cemented on her peripheral view.

"Blue," she hears the brunette speak. What the hell is 'blue'? "You were wearing a blue cardigan over a white plain top, a pair of jeans and your favorite heels that goes with anything you wear. I remember that night pretty well, the first time Fat Amy introduced me to her gym friend's roommate. There you were and I thought to myself, 'wow, she's wonderful.' I guess I knew then I wanted you to be my wife, but I already had my wedding ring, this incredible marriage with someone else."

"I was selfish to fall for you," Chloe responds. "I shouldn't have let it go that far."

"I love you," Beca tells her for the very first time. She glues her eyes on those bright blue ones, so the girl across the table knows it's not a lie. "For so many times, I tried to convince myself that all I want from you is sex. That's a hell lot easier, right? But the more I convince myself, the more I realize it's not. Somewhere between those times, I've already fallen in love with you, Chloe."

But it doesn't matter, does it?

"I'm choosing Aubrey. I'm letting you go."

* * *

"Baby, I'm home."

No sign of Aubrey at the kitchen where she should have been preparing dinner by now. No sign of her at the patio or the pool. Not even in the bedroom, although the entrance to the walk-in closet is wide open. Beca enters, dies inside upon seeing her wife packing up her bags. Not for another medical mission. But they've been doing fine the last few weeks like their relationship never hit a bump! She drops down on her knees before Aubrey, begging for mercy.

"I want a divorce, Beca. I need it."

* * *

 _Next chapter is the last._


	7. The Epilogue

_**Guest, Hanna, Fanatic, and to all others who stick with Bechloe, shayna115:** I salute you._

 _ **BallinParis:** That's the joy of this story. I mean, I don't even know what I want to happen here. But I'm pretty sure we all want a happy ending for Aubrey. By the way, thanks for deciding to read this fanfic. I've truly enjoyed reading your reviews and responding to them. :)_

 ** _wrrrby, Pitch wars, PinkAgent, BeChloeFan01, Guest, infatuatedlover, vahuene, llvr:_** _I am so feeling the hate for Beca, guys. And I thought it's impossible to hate her._

 ** _Yan:_** _Well, I really like torturing, so fixing is probably not my best forte._

 ** _free the boobs:_** _For some reason, the thought of you reading this in the parking lot makes me laugh._

 ** _MysticFalls94:_** _Sometimes I kinda wish that you guys don't like my story. You expect too much from me. LOL._

 ** _ballpointmf:_** _I'm not sure I get you, dear._

 ** _Chloe:_** _Yes, this is the last chapter. Pitch Perfect 2 has premiered in my country today and I just assumed everybody will be busy gushing about it. LOL._

 ** _ReadWriteFangirl:_** _Top ten fave? You have no idea how much you make me happy. :)_

 _So for a farewell note, of course I want to thank all the readers for putting up with me this one whole week (Yes, it's only been a week, yet it felt like weeks). I am nothing but grateful for all the praises, I can't wait to write another story. Although, I have a feeling you're going to hate me for the ending. **No peeking, people!** And lastly, to the guy I loved but cheated on: See? They all think I don't deserve your forgiveness. Now back to the story..._

* * *

 **THE EPILOGUE**

"Piano."

 _Psh._ The look on those dark blues is totally judging the redhead's preferences in life. How could someone this cool and hype think that the piano is the most romantic musical instrument in the face of the planet?

"I am most certainly disappointed with you, Miss Beale."

Chloe gasps and jokingly shoots her a look. "You know what? I still can't believe that you're married to an actual human being."

"Wow," the other holds on to her chest as if she just got stabbed in the heart. "That actually hurt. But okay, me neither."

Laughing, the redhead pours them both another round of champagne. They're in the middle of a party anyway; might as well do it right. "See? Is it amazing when someone foolishly fall into your booby trap of smooth talks?"

"Excuse me," Beca raises a finger, smug. "I did _not_ smooth talked my way into marriage. I just happen to be truly, genuinely in love with my wife."

"Hmm... Impressive, Mitchell."

"Ha!"

"So how did you propose to her?" asks the party guest with keen interest. You simply can't imagine how this creature could have managed to pull off anything romantic. "Or did she propose to you? I'm gearing towards the latter."

The record producer suddenly falls quiet, sub-consciously fidgeting with the wedding ring around her finger. Tables are about to get turned on her.

"Piano," Chloe mutters in realization; that stupid smirk across her pretty face is the most annoying of it all, and the fact that she's able to convince her to let her play the piano. So much to prove a point, yet it's like there's nothing Beca wouldn't do for her at this point. Mozart preps her fingers then pats the vacant space next to her. "Come over here, you dumbass. I don't bite."

It's harmless, right? What could go wrong with Beca taking a seat next to a woman she's not married to in the middle of an empty studio?

"Wise men say only fools rush in.  
Oh, but I can't help falling in love with you."

So this sweet little bird can sing too, huh?

"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?  
If I can't help falling in love with you."

The moment her eyes are drawn to that face, her heart to that voice, Beca has known she had to run. Fast. Far away from this enchanting goddess. Perhaps, it's the ballad, bewitching her soul to stay. Just one quick song, and it'll be over.

"Like a river flows so surely to the sea  
Darling so it goes, some things are meant to be."

A little bit more.

"So won't you please just take my hand?  
And take my whole life too  
'Cause I can't help falling in love with you."

The music ends, but the feelings are still there. Beca knows she's about to make the biggest mistake in her marriage, so that when Chloe turns to her with that oblivious smile and a pair of spellbinding eyes, the brunette slides a hand upon her face and kisses her. Shocked by the unprecedented move, Chloe shoves her off. It's not supposed to happen. But Beca kisses her again, maintains the connection despite the attempts to break away from it, until finally the redhead has started to kiss her back.

"Boss? Boss, are you here?"

With that exact same accent and those exact same words, Fat Amy ruins the exact same moment. That's her wake up call; Beca sits up, forces herself out of bed, and opens the blinds. This hotel room, dull and sad, needs some light.

"Thank god," the Australian sighs out of relief. "Otherwise, I would have to eat a whole feast of room service. I still have to fit into my wedding gown."

"Nothing lasts forever," her boss offers a piece of bitter advice. "Not even marriage."

"Oh come on, boss. Don't be so pessimistic. I won't end up like you, alone and lonely."

Does she really have to rub it?

"Cynthia-Rose will meet you at the studio at ten, Usher wants to throw you a Welcome Back party, and Aubrey has left you a message."

 _Aubrey._ Beca takes a deep breath and reads the message: _'Meet me.'_

* * *

"God, Mitchell, answer your damn phone!"

Instead, Beca lets the ringing go on without bothering to check the screen. Who else would it be but Aubrey? She's called at least twenty times, all of which deliberately ignored. So here's the cheating bastard, and she's the one with the decency to snub.

"Where do you want me to put this?" she awkwardly holds up a silver eggplant sculpture for her roommate, technically and legally, to see.

Stacie throws her a dirty look and a pointing finger. "Don't change the subject, answer your phone, and you can put that into the box labeled _'Weird Things I Keep'_. Thank you."

"I don't even want to ask what you use it for."

"Shut up. Don't be judgmental. Answer your phone."

But the ringing suddenly ceases - well, for a few seconds, before another attempt bursts into that annoying default ringtone.

"This is your fault, Fat Amy." The Australian blonde drops her jaw in surprise. Not again. How could she be responsible for everything? "You know perfectly well that this twit never answers a direct call. It's your job to tell her what to do, right? So tell her to answer that goddamn phone!"

"Forget it. It's the wife who divorced her."

"Oh Aubrey," the taller brunette says the name as she showers the other with gaze of pure interrogation. "Why won't you talk to her, Mitchell?"

Beca immediately switches the ringing phone off in the hopes that this conversation would end with it. "So... i-is this all your stuff? W-When are you moving out, Stacie? Fat Amy can re-book my flights, so we can give you a hand. What about in Phoenix? H-Have you found a place to settle in?"

"I'm fine," assures Stacie before taking the ample time to observe the loneliness oozing out of her roommate's being. "You?"

And for a response is the usual practiced laugh and a shrug. "Well... now I have an entire apartment to myself."

"Come here," the official resident nods towards the door to the room supposedly intended for the other occupant. Beca, however, never moved in. Rather, she specifically requested Stacie to keep it the way its former owner has left it. "You never went in."

No other response but a small nod in conformity.

"You should," enjoins the other, opening the wooden barrier for her just in case she didn't have the courage to do so. "Go."

Frightened and doubtful, Beca steps into the room. Bizarre, it's like standing here for the very first time. Her lips eventually curve into a smile, recognizing the scent of Chloe's favorite perfume. Perhaps, this one can last forever. She takes it all in with one long breath; it feels like the redhead is just a few inches away from where she stands. For now, Beca would have to settle with the wilted red rose awaiting on the surface of the bed, that last rose for that one last apology. A note lies beneath, patiently anticipating all this time for the day she discovers it.

 _'You too deserve to be happy, dumbass."_

* * *

 _'I know you're in town, Beca. Come over at 1."_

Beca deletes yet another text from her ex-wife; she's going to change her number soon. And this typical L.A. traffic, thank god she doesn't have to live with it every day. As she stares vacantly at the rear portion of the car she's trailing behind, another beep fills the air as her phone receives one more message from Aubrey. Irritated, she takes the device, ready to delete the text without reading through, only it's a picture of a birthday cake glaring back at her. _Damn it._ She has to go.

"Happy birthday, kiddo." She has figured the perfect gift for Aubrey's son - the _LEGO Mindstorms_ robotics line - much to the mother's chagrin. "You like it?"

Maverick nods his head so hard his curls adorably bounce at the beat. "Thank you, Beca. You're the best!"

"You're welcome."

His mother though is not as amused as the big group of kids rush into the living room, very eager to try them out. "He's only three."

"Relax, Doc. It's just a toy."

"I told you if you're gonna get him a gift, get something educational."

"I know, I know." Beca hands over a wrapped rectangular box. "That's why I also got him a _Scrabble_."

"Maverick can barely spell out his address."

"Then you'll have to deal with the robots for a while," grins the brunette.

Aubrey groans and shakes her head. "Now I know why he wants you to come so badly."

"What can I say, Doc? I'm the best."

"So how long are you gonna stay in town?" The blonde abruptly jumps into a whole new conversation her ex-wife is not easily prepared for the transition and then bribed with a plate of pizza puffs. "Stay for dinner. I'll cook your favorite. Well, it's also Maverick's."

"You're doing a great job raising him on your own, Bree."

"This could have been us," replies the single mom to which Beca scoffs. It's not fair. She can't casually describe what could have been their future together as a family when she was the one who gave it all up. "Brown hair, those eyes, same interests... it's astounding how he's a lot like you."

"I made a choice, Aubrey, and it was you."

"I couldn't let you live with it." Finally, some answer. Five years later, she now offers an answer as to why she packed up her bags and filed a divorce. Still, it doesn't make sense though. "I believed you, you know, that you loved me. I believed you when you said you wanted to fix everything."

"So why? Why did you have to give up on me?"

"Because I realized that you already loved her more than you loved me. Beca, I just had to let you go, or _I_ won't ever forgive myself."

Beca lowers her head because maybe that's true. Maybe that's one thing she has been so afraid to admit even to herself. What could have her fucking cheating self done to deserve at least this kind of friendship with Aubrey Posen, this Aubrey Posen who still willingly feeds her for comfort, smiles at her for reassurance, and hugs her for good luck? They could strangely be best friends.

"Don't worry, Mitchell. You'll find her."

* * *

[So take my hand and take my whole life too  
'Cause I can't help falling-]

Beca pulls down her headphones in time for the announcement of the boarding for her scheduled flight. Soon, people forms a line towards the boarding gate. She can wait, she's decided. She retrieves her little black notebook and goes over her list. With five years gone, she's used most of the pages and crossed out most of the numbered items. On deck is _'London, England'_ \- word is Mr. and Mrs. DeGroft moved there a few years back and is prepping up to welcome their own little kid. Who knows? Chloe might be there. She and her sister used to get along.

 _What the fuck._ Beca sighs in frustration as she slams her little notebook shut. What the hell is she doing? What if Chloe's not in London? What if she's destined to belong to someone else? How do you even find someone who doesn't want to be found in the first place? What if she's putting to much faith in Six Degrees of Separation? It's been five years. If it's meant for Beca to find her, she should have found her by now. Even if she finds her, however, will Chloe still take her back? Maybe. Hopefully. Because she wants Beca too to be happy, right? And Beca's happiness, as it's cleared out now, is no one else but her.

The audio system makes another announcement especially for passengers like Beca who still slack around the lounge, reminding them that the boarding gate has already been opened for service. Anxious, she grabs her small bag, a long-stemmed rose secured on the side just in case today is the day - not for an apology but 'I love you' - and joins the line. Why isn't she flying First Class again? Right, for more variables into the equation. But who is she expecting to meet here who could possibly bring her to Chloe Beale? Is it the old woman permitted to cut the line for sitting on a wheel chair, or the teenager who can't keep her eyes away from her phone? The young married couple with frolicking twins, or the woman with real red hair? Wait, red hair.

Beca runs past three, four rows of people down the jetway, squeezing her tiny body where a little gap is present. She's earning angry remarks from the other boarding passengers, but she keeps going anyway. What if she misses the redheaded woman? It happened before. She saw someone who seems like Chloe only find out that she has mysteriously disappeared. Fine, maybe that was a bit of a hallucination, but this time it's real. It has to be. She walks past her reserved seat and carries on in spite of the stewardess' apprehension. Red hair, red hair... there, she's caught a glimpse of it.

"Chloe?"

* * *

 _ **Song:** Can't Help Falling In Love With You (Cover) - Ingrid Michaelson_

 _On my way to the cinema to watch Pitch Perfect 2. Hope to spot Bechloe shippers out there. LOL._


End file.
